(The seventeenth day of Galena in the two-hundred-fifty-eighth year of the Mythic Age)
I hollowly scream as a feign mute, trampling my hoofs into the Highwood bed to muffle my exhibited seething. Jumping down from the jumbled furniture where I rest my head at night, to the rough cinnabar floor causing it to sound out in protest. I sneak with my barrel almost causing friction with the floor; I reach my destination under the green-glass window. The glass was true to its name as around the edges of the acacia wood frame, the glass was an opaque lime tint but nearer the center, it allowed light through and with that sight.
The copper coat mare crept from below the window frame and peered out with ears swept back.
Look at them unaware of the spy that dwells among them, how she watches their every action and if willed their very thoughts. If the Unicorn were a emissary of evil, oh what malicious she could sow. Her brains grasps many spells, one such would allow her to slowly let seep the mercury in the cinnabar floors, no-pony would be the wiser as they slowly turned insane. “Oh, Master why you imparted such vile intellect into my psyche?” I muffled the words. Ponies strolled on the shale road outside my quarters, which lays on the ground level, and that is how I desire it… for now.
She sets on her romp further from the window, anger building and falling with every deep inhale and exhale.
Why the Crown seen to propel me on this mission was no puzzle but why the clandestine nature? For these five years in Dawnpick, I was to live as impostor among good ponies before those years, three more traveling the kingdom as some mock regal engraver. I would achieve anything for the Princess and King; my will is their will… but this causes my heart to smell of brimstone. Sometimes the lies become the reality and the truth becomes a cadaver. “I am not some Common Cuckoo.” More words subdued by my lips.
A telekinetic field envelops a wild strawberry kist at a bed’s end and levitates a few centimeters from the stone floor. The mare aims for the window for a moment and lets the magical field explode; clunk goes the trunk on the vermilion ground. The Little Pony drops her rage like the red chest.
It has been decades since I was a filly, not today will I throw a tantrum akin to one. I chose how to act and feel, not the aristocratic, they may have dealt me these cards but I decide how to play them. I am going to canter right into the baroness’s office and inform the truth… “Horse-apples, I did not consider that far.” I utter under a short groan. I pad to the green glass portal to my room, stopping short so I get my full reflection in its gloss. Returning to my rump, my fore-hooves land in front of my muzzle. “My Lady Virtue, I am a Pretty-Pretty Princess. My father’s duchy is contesting for Dawnpick and the Crown favors him.” I mouth into the polish glass.
The mare breaks the harebrained act and returns her hooves to the floor; she turns as she gets up to walk over to the Highwood cabinet on the other side of the window opposing the bed. Laid atop it was the source of the Unicorn’s paroxysm, an inconspicuous envelope bearing only the Little Pony’s alias.
With my magic, I warm the sealing wax enough just to open it with telekinesis and remove its contents; then melt another seal. Reading the encrypted writing twice, faintness replaces my vexedness and I plop against the wall, I coo: “Oh, my King if not for your lover’s heart, I would kiss much more then your hoofs next time I depart.” Angst soon returns to my mind as the concept of telling the truth now would be arduous. “Our will be done.” I sigh.
The mare puffs her unkempt goldenrod locks from her emerald eyes and gets ready for an audience with her Baroness. She acquires a royal rope reed manuscript along with other documents from a hidden compartment in the floor under her kist. To claim her birthright she had to bring poof… even if they were royal sponsored forgeries that bear the real imperial seal.
Oh, what garb would be fitting; uncolored peasantry cape-like jacket and flounced skirt was just right for the cooler weather at summer’s conclusion? “Any pretext to cover my flanks.” I say, peering into the poor mirror sheen of the green-glass door as I don the attire; paisley pattern shawl replaced with a similar ornate saddlebags on my back. Whimsical, how the nobility espouses the customs and costumes of other parts of the realm, even from outlandish lands. Such as covering the cutie mark; concealing two or more limbs under an uncountable layered dress and even slip in a heinous corset.
The Unicorn mare retches at the notion of herself in a corset. She levitates the documents into her bags and trot to the door undoing a hidden imbedded lock within the glass that only magic can contact. Subsequent she departs her room, behind her the door closes and relocks. She enters a masquerade of both blissful and magical ignorance. The mare steers her path, as not to avoid anypony on the road on her face is the expression of a goal.
Distractions from ponies are normal just make acquaintances; do not elongate into a chat and press-on if they move along. Past the paranormal perpetual motion water will; avoid the bloodletting infirmary; the sock filled guard captain’s office and finally the marble peel tower glinting in the midday sun. I should have trotted around more to clear my mind; I break into a sweat worthy of summer. My right hoof ascends and clops against the marble door. “I am vassal Kiln Kurollodel; I seek audience with Baroness Virtue if she wills it.” My voice vibrates the door more so then my hoof.
The Little Pony’s brain works akin to a duel processor formulating and organizing at light-speeds but it does her no good. The same conclude comes up and she may attempt treason today; why necessary the truths be treason and fabrications the edict. Worse yet was her actions already foreseen and she cannot leave this game until her death. Now the mare recalls her revulsion for politics.
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Topic: Dawnpick (My Little Fortress) (Read 236266 times)